There's No Person Like Home
by mandancie
Summary: Today, Sam's first grade teacher learns that 'home' is not just a place but a person. Sam/6; Dean/10. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**A special thanks to AlElizabeth for beta'ing my story.**

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this.  
**

**Sam/6; Dean/10**

**There's No Person Like Home**

Mrs. Trent loved teaching. It was just something about teaching the first grade. She loved to hear the little stories that would come from the children. People around the world would always say that Monday was the worst day of the week; well, she begged to differ. She loved Mondays. Not because of the day, but because of the stories that she would hear from her students. She made it a point to ask her students what they did over the weekend. Sometimes, she would assign little projects for the children to do and come back and tell the rest of the class.

Today, when she walked into the office to pick up her mail, she saw a small family; a father and his two sons, she assumed. They exchanged 'Good Mornings' and she thought nothing else about the trio as she walked to her class to get it ready for the day.

Setting up her class they way that she wanted it; she was surprised when the principle, Mr. Walker, came knocking on her door frame.

"Mr. Walker," she said standing up facing the door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Sweet as always, Mrs. Trent," Mr. Walker smiled. "I've come to tell you that you will have a new student for a while. The small family you saw sitting in the office."

"The father and sons," Mrs. Trent said. "Yes, I remember. Who will my new student be?"

"His name is Samuel Winchester," Mr. Walker handed her some paperwork. "He is a special case."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Trent asked, looking over the papers. "Is he a trouble maker?"

"Far from it, from what I gathered," Mr. Walker answered, sitting down in the near by chair. Mrs. Trent sitting in the chair next to him. "No, he's a special case because this is not the first school he's been transferred from. And honestly, I don't think it will be the last. After talking with the father, I don't think they will be here that long."

"Really?" Mrs. Trent raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little dangerous. Should I be worried about the child?"

"Well, I didn't get the vibe from the small family that he was unloved," Mr. Walker stated. "But I would love it if you kept your eye on him. Let me know immediately if you think there may be abuse in the household."

"I will," Mrs. Trent nodded.

"Good," Mr. Walker said, standing up, patting her arm. "Well, I will leave you to finish rearranging your room."

She smiled at the principal but didn't say anything else. Once she finished working on the room, she sat down behind her desk, while waiting on the children, she read up on Samuel Winchester.

The file was small and it only had a little bit of information about the child. In it, it mentioned that he was the youngest of the family. That his mother died when he was just a babe, and the only place of residence was a Robert Singer in Sioux Falls? That couldn't be right, she thought. Sioux Falls was two states away. Where was his home? Mrs. Trent pondering that for a little bit and she figured that she would make a class project out of it so she would not single out the new child.

Getting her plan together, the bell rang signally that it was time for the students to start coming in, putting their things away and getting settled into their respective classes.

Her desk in the back corner of the room. She's always love to watch the children come into her class. She loved to see the expressions on her students' faces when they came into the room because the room was never the same from day to day. She didn't want her students getting comfortable with just sitting around the same people all the time. She wanted them all to know each other. Sometimes the switches were challenging, but all in all, they worked out to where there were more friendships in her class.

As the students walked with the look of surprise, they all looked for their seats. While the children looked for their names on their respective desks she noticed the new child standing in the doorway. He wasn't looking in the room, no, he was looking at someone standing just beyond the door. Not wanting to invade the new kid's privacy, not yet anyway, she began helping some of the other students get their things together.

Once all the children were sitting down, she noticed that Sam was still standing by the door. She guessed that he was waiting to be told where to sit. She lifted her arm, and waved him over so that she could introduce him to the class.

"Everyone," she began. "This is Samuel Winchester. He's new in town."

"Hello, Samuel," the entire classed chorused.

"Now, I want you all to be nice to Samuel."

"It's just Sam," Sam interrupted.

"Sam," Mrs. Trent corrected.

"Yes, Mrs. Trent."

"Sam, why don't you sit over there next to Jamie?" She pointed to the boy at the end. Next to him was an empty desk.

Sam walked over to the desk and sat down without saying a word.

"Alright, class," Mrs. Trent clapped her hands. "Now I know that today we were suppose to talk about what we did over the weekend, but I wanted to get something different from you. I want you all to tell me about your home."

Mrs. Trent had an ulterior motive as to wanting to know about each student's home. In her mind, it was the best way to learn something about her new student.

Each student got up and told about their home. Some talked about how big their homes were. Some talked about how many rooms it had. One girl, Tracy, talked about everyone that lived in her home. Jamie was now talking about his room and his toys.

Mrs. Trent kept glancing over to Sam to see if he was nervous or worried about speaking. To her surprise, he was neither. If she had to guess, he pretty much looked eager to speak. Once Jamie finished, she then turned to Sam.

"Okay, Sam," She said. "Why don't you tell everyone about your home."

She watched as the small, curly brown-headed, boy stood up with the look of pride in his eyes and began to speak.

"My home is always with me. He takes care of me when my dad isn't around. He never lets me be alone or scared. My home is always safety."

"Sam, dear," Mrs. Trent said cutting the child off. "You're speaking as if your home is a person."

Small giggles could be heard from the class as Sam's cheeks start to blush.

"My home is a person," Sam declared.

"No, Samuel," Mrs. Trent shook her head. "A home is a place not a person."

"My home is a person," this time Sam's voice was a lot louder. "And my name is Sam!"

"Sam," Mrs. Trent put emphasis on his name. "Why don't you sit down and calm yourself a bit. We'll talk more later."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore," Sam huffed out as he plopped back down in his seat. His arms crossed over his chest.

He hated when people told him things about his family and home and they didn't know him. It was just the beginning of the day an already Sam was ready to go back home. He loved being home, and he knew his home loved him. Home wouldn't judge him, or make fun of him. Home wouldn't laugh at him"

For the rest of the day, Mrs. Trent tried to get Sam, as he preferred to be called, involved in projects in the class, but he was stubborn. She had seen kids threaten not to talk anymore, but Sam took the cake. When Sam said he wasn't going to talk anymore, he meant just that. He did he work, but not one sound came from the boy. Mrs. Trent started to feel guilty for the way that she handled Sam. She wanted to get a good story as to why Sam's home residence was two states away, but she feels she blew it on finding out. But she was not one to give up easily. She decided that she would pull Sam to the side and try talking to him again, this time without the other children listening in. Maybe embarrassment was what caused Sam to mistake his home, she thought.

During lunch, the children were either eating lunches they brought from home or the school satchel lunch. Sam was eating from his satchel lunch, when Mrs. Trent walked over to his desk.

"Sam," she tried to make her voice low and comforting. "I would like to talk to you, if I can."

Sam knowing it would not be good if he were rude, put his sandwich down and looked up at z his teacher, still not saying one word.

"Sam," she began, "I am really sorry if I upset you this morning. I know that it's probably really hard to come to a new school and have the children giggle at you." Sam, not saying a word, just looked at her. "I really just want to ask you a few questions. Will you talk to me?"

Sam looked at her, shook his head, and went back to eating his sandwich. Feeling defeated, she sighed and got up from next to Sam.

For the rest of the day, Sam did not speak and no one spoke to Sam. When the last bell rang, signaling the end of the day, everyone got their things and went outside so that they could wait for their parents to pick them up.

Mrs. Trent figured she would give it one more chance to get something out of Sam. She thought it would probably be best if she spoke with Mr. Winchester. Tell him what happened in class. She loved all her students, but she has learned from experience that upset children are prone to exaggeration.

While the kids were waiting outside, she noticed that Sam was sitting on the steps of the school, waiting. He didn't look sad, or lonely. He just had a longing look. While keeping an eye on him as well as the other students, that played waiting for their parents, she saw something that actually warmed her heart.

Sam had the biggest grin on his face. Mrs. Trent looked around to see if she could find the man that she saw earlier that morning, but he was nowhere to be found. What she did see was a boy, that looked to be no older than ten, coming towards her student. She slowly walked over to them. As she was getting closer, she could see that Sam was talking his head off to the other child, grinning and telling him any and everything.

She later regretted walking in on the two boys. If she knew then what she knows now, she wouldn't have walked over there. But who's to say that you're too old to learn.

Mrs. Trent walked over to the two boys. The first thing she noticed was that the older one moved Sam so that Sam was standing behind him. The look that the other boy was giving her actually made her shiver a little.

"Who are you?" the boy demanded.

"D'n, she's my teacher," Sam whispered from behind him.

She looked at the boy standing in front of her. She could see that he was fully intending to protect his brother. Then she looked at how Sam was standing in relation to his brother Dean, and she remembered what Sam said in class that morning.

_'My home is always with me. He takes care of me when my dad isn't around. He never lets me be alone or scared. My home is always safety.'_

In that moment, Mrs. Trent knew who Sam had been talking about. He was talking about his brother. When she didn't say anything more, Dean turned his attention to his brother.

"Did you have fun here?" Dean asked. His voice was calm towards his brother, but she could hear the underlining meaning behind that question.

"The other kids laughed at me," Sam quietly said.

Mrs. Trent's heart dropped at Sam's admission. She received the scariest glare from a child. Dean turned and looked at her.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean said, turning his baby brother away and walking off. "Let's go. I'll tell you about my day."

The two brothers walked off leaving the teacher just standing there. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. In that short amount of time, she found out that 'home' was not only just a place, but could be a person. To Sam Winchester, home was his brother. She saw him be comforted and protected. Dean Winchester was Sam Winchester's home.

As she watched to two boys disappear down the street, she began to smile. Mondays were always an eventful day. Today was no exception. Today the story that will forever be in her memory was the day she learned that home is not just a place.

**THE END**

**A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story. :) Please leave a review and let me know what you think of it. :)**

**Many hugs and kisses to you**

**Mandancie :)**

**Follow my Mandancie pages on Tumblr and Facebook.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

**A special thanks to The Lonely God With a Box for beta'ing my story.**

**A/N: I wasn't planning on continuing with this story, but I was asked by my mom for another chapter. I hope that you enjoy the second part to this story. :)**

After watching the last of the children leave with their respective parents, Mrs. Trent walked back into the school. Even though she was out there to monitor the children, she couldn't get Sam Winchester and his older brother, Dean, out of her thoughts. The way Dean looked at her. She'd never felt that way around a child. What kind of influence did Dean have over his younger brother? Sam just seemed to worship the ground Dean walked on. And then there was the protectiveness that Dean was showing. Standing in front of Sam like that.

Mrs. Trent was so lost in thought, she did not hear someone calling her from behind.

"Mrs. Trent," Mr. Walker called out. He began calling out her name when she passed the office, but when she didn't respond, he followed her down the hallway.

Jumping a little, and turning around, Mrs. Trent was brought out of her musing.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Walker asked, walking up to her.

"Yeah," Mrs. Trent answered. "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for a while now. You seemed lost in thought."

"Yeah, I am. I think I may have messed something up with one of my students."

"A student not liking you," Mr. Walker said incredulously. "Unheard of."

"Yeah, but this one, I think," she said, trailing off.

"Which one?" he asked.

"Samuel Winchester."

"I see. Well, come back with me to my office and we'll talk about it. It may not be as bad as you think."

"No," Mrs. Trent said, shaking her head. "It's pretty bad."

They walked back to Mr. Walker's office and she told him about the entire day. From when Sam walked in her class until Dean came to pick him up. Mr. Walker sat and listened quietly as she spoke. When she was finished, he could tell that this was really troubling her.

He has always enjoyed Mrs. Trent and her teaching style. Yes, she was one of the younger teachers he had on staff, which is why he took on the role of mentoring her, letting her vent and talk about her day be it good or a bad. Once she was finished, he looked at her. She looked so subdued. He knew he needed to help her out, even if it was just a little.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Mr. Walker's voice was low an soothing. She looked up at him and he continued. "Try it again, but this time, don't try and correct him especially in front of the class. I think you embarrassed him more than anything. I still would like you to find out more about his home life. From what you have told me, there are still some unsettling things that need answering. Go home, think about it, and try a different approach. Okay?"

Mrs. Trent nodded and got up to leave.

"Thank you, Jay," Mrs. Trent said, then left out of the office.

"You're very welcome, Melissa," he replied after she left.

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Dean turned off the hot plate that was set up on the table of the motel they were currently staying in.

"Come on, Sammy. Time to eat."

Dean brought the small pot of Spaghetti O's to the table and filled up the two bowls that were sitting there. Sam crawled off the bed and walked over to the table and sat down. He waited for Dean to put the pot back and sat down next to him. For a few moments, they both ate in silence. Every so often, Dean looked over at his baby brother.

"Sammy," Dean said. Sam looked up at his brother. "What happened today?"

"Wha'ch'mean?" Sam asked, his mouth full of Spaghetti O's.

"With you teacher. Why did she walk over to us?"

"I'm not talking to her," Sam said, after swallowing what he had in his mouth. The anger he felt earlier that day starting to come back. "She was mean."

Dean's brow creased at Sam's admission. She was mean to him, Dean thought. He could feel a bit of anger rising in his belly at the teacher that had the audacity to be mean to his Sammy.

"What do you mean she was mean?"

"She said you can't be my home?"

The anger that was building in Dean quickly dissipated after hear his baby brother's reasoning. Dean opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. He didn't know how to respond to that. 'I can't be home.' What does that mean?

"Sammy, what are you talking about?"

"Today, Mrs. Trent wanted everyone to talk about their homes. And I told her about you. And she said that you can't be home. Home is a place not a person. She was mean." By the end of Sam's rant, Dean tried his best to keep the smile off his face. He didn't know if he should laugh at his baby brother or be proud at his brother's declaration. The two boys didn't say anything else after that. They ate in comfortable silence.

Once they were finished, Dean got up, picking up both his and Sam's bowl to rinse them out in the sink, but not before ruffling Sam's hair and leaning over and kissing the crown of his head.

The rest of the night was quiet and peaceful for the small Winchester boys.

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The next morning, Mrs. Trent was rearranging her room again. This time it was arranged like a normal classroom. Her desk was in the front of the class, as the students' desks were in straight rows of fours.

Mrs. Trent decided to start anew with her students. She remembered what Mr. Walker said and was going to try and make things right with Sam.

Dean and Sam were walking towards Sam's school. Just before they walked into the building, Dean pulled Sam to the side.

"Listen, Sammy," Dean said. "I don't want you to cause a scene in class."

"I won't," Sam promised.

"And I want you to talk if the teacher asks you something."

Sam grimaced when Dean said that. He was still angry that Mrs. Trent said he was wrong. Dean could see the stubbornness in his baby brother.

"Sammy, you know me. No one can take that away. Not a teacher. Not even dad. Don't let some teacher that we may not even see after this week upset you. Now, I mean what I said. Do not make her suspicious about us."

"Okay, Dean."

The two brothers walked in the school. Dean walked Sam to his class. Sam said his goodbyes and sat down at his desk.

Mrs. Trent and Sam made eye contact, but neither one said anything. As the other students began coming in, Mrs. Trent stood up to begin her lessons for the day.

"Alright class, settle down. Today, we are going to continue on with what we started yesterday. Now, each of you have construction paper on your desk and crayons. I want you to draw your most favorite thing. What is it that you love?"

Sam looked down at the paper in front of him and to the assortment of crayons on his desk. Red, Green, Yellow, Purple, Orange.

Sam tilted his head to the side and thought about the assignment, then he raised his hand.

"Yes, Sam," Mrs. Trent said trying to keep the surprise out of her voice since he told her yesterday that he would not speak to her again.

"Do you have Black?" Sam asked.

Mrs. Trent blinked at the question. Black? She wanted to ask Sam why would he need that particular color for, but she remembered what Mr. Walker told her and she dismissed the idea. She just walked over to her desk and grabbed the Black crayon and gave it to Sam.

"Thank you," Sam said in a small voice.

He set out to complete his assignment, dutifully.

After about an hour of the children drawing their pictures, Mrs. Trent called for everyone to bring up their drawings and when they got back to their desks they were to pull out their math workbooks and turn to page 34. When all the students did what was asked, she began her Math lessons. The rest of the morning went by as smoothly as a First Grade class could. When it was time for lunch, Mrs. Trent decided she would look over the pictures that she had been interested to see, especially a certain boy's.

While the children were having their lunches and heading out for their scheduled recess, Mrs. Trent looked over the drawings. Each child drew something different. When she got to Sam's drawing, she really didn't know what to think. She decided she would have the children describe their drawings after recess.

When the children came back in, and all were settled down from playing, Mrs. Trent began the afternoon agenda.

"Okay, class, settle down. What we are going to do now is talk about our drawings that you did this morning."

Looking over the class, she didn't miss the slight dejected look on Sam's face.

"Alright," She began. "Who would like to go first?"

Hands shot into the air. All but Sam's. It didn't go unnoticed, but she played along. As each child got up and with their drawings in their hands they each described what they drew. After all but one of the children went, Mrs. Trent walked over to Sam with his drawing.

"Sam, would you like to share with the class what you drew?"

Sam, not wanting to get in trouble with Dean if he found out he didn't do what he asked, nodded his head and took his drawing and walked to the front of the class. Sam took a deep breath and turned his picture around and showed the class. Everyone was silent when they looked at his picture.

Sam's drawing had what looked like a black car on a road with three people by the side of it. It was a clear sunny day, and in the top corner of the picture there was a woman drawn in the sky.

"Here is a picture of my favorite thing," Sam began. "Here is my dad." Sam pointed to the taller person on the drawing. "Here is me." Pointing to the smaller person. "And this is Dean." Pointing to the last person.

"So, that's your home?" a kid asked. "That's what you call it? Dean?"

"That's enough, Josh," Mrs. Trent reprimanded. "Keep going, Sam."

Sam just stood there. He didn't say anything. He didn't like being made fun of. He didn't like it.

"Sam," a girl in the front row called out. Sam looked over at her. "That's your family?" Sam nodded. "Who's that?" She pointed to the picture. "That woman?"

A small smile slipped on the boys face.

"That is my mom. My mom was very pretty. Dean said she loved me and him so much."

"What happened to her?" the girl asked.

"She died when I was six months."

"It's a very nice picture, Sam," Mrs. Trent said. "You can take your seat."

Sam sat down having a small smile on his face.

At the end of the day, Dean walked up to the school and saw Sam sitting on the steps. Walking to the baby brother, Dean sat down next to Sam and put his arm around his shoulders.

"How was your day, Sammy?" Dean asked.

"It was good," Sam smiled at Dean.

"Really?" Dean raised his eyebrow. It was not this morning his little brother didn't even want to go to class and now he was smiling and saying that he had a good day. "So, what happened today?"

Sam still smiling didn't say anything. He just showed Dean his drawing. Dean looked at the picture.

"This is really good. Why did you draw this?"

"Mrs. Trent told us to draw our favorite thing."

"This is good, Sam."

"Thanks."

"Let's go." Dean folded Sam's picture and put it in his pocket and stood up. Sam followed suit and the two Winchesters walked off.

Mrs. Trent watched the entire encounter between the brothers. She learned her lesson about interrupting them. As much as she wanted to, she kept her distance. When the children left, Mrs. Trent went back to her classroom. Sitting at her desk, she thought back on the drawing that Sam made.

A knock on the door brought Mrs. Trent out of her musing. She looked up to see Mr. Walker standing at the door.

"So was today better?" Mr. Walker asked, walking inside the classroom.

"Much." A smile gracing her lips. "I don't think we need to worry about Samuel Winchester."

"Why is that?" Mr. Walker pulled a chair out and sat down.

"There is nothing mysterious about him or his brother. They are just a small family that lost their mother and is trying to survive."

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Dean and Sam walked down the street that headed toward the motel. When they turned the last corner, they saw something that brought a grin on their faces.

"Dad," exclaimed Sam.

Standing by the side of the car, John watched as both his sons came running towards him. He knelt down on one knee with open arms as both boys ran into his arms. John held his sons while kissing both of them on the head.

"Everything alright, dad?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," John said pulling his sons out to arms length. "You boys ready to leave?"

"Yeah, dad," Dean answered.

"Well go pack your things."

Sam and Dean looked at each other smiling and ran into the motel room and packed up. Not long after, the small family packed up their home and drove off.

**THE END**

_**To have the support of someone is a blessed thing. My mom has been my greatest supporter since as long as I can remember. She planted the seed of storytelling. In the beginning, I didn't write my stories down; I would tell them.**_

_**I dedicate this chapter, this story, to my mother, Leeanna. I love you so much! :) **_

_**Happy Mother's Day!**_

**A/N: Thank you to everyone that favored and reviewed this story. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of this chapter. :)**

**Many hugs and kisses to you all**

**Mandancie :)**

_**Please follow my Mandancie pages on Facebook and Tumblr.**_


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